Harry Potter and the Obscurial Within
by Hadrian Aureus Black
Summary: When Albus Dumbledore discovers that Harry Potter is an obscurial, he was incredibly troubled. The boy destined to beat the Dark Lord, destined to be the Hero of the Wizarding World - but it was all because of him! He hadn't checked on the boy for ten years, and now he faced the consequences. The only way to save the innocent boy was love. Story is much better than the summary.
1. Prologue

The smell of rain and thunder reached the man's nose even though it was a bright and sunny day. Albus Dumbledore had a sense of Deja Vu as he walked past Privet Drive, his robes billowing. Even so, he felt something was wrong. His radar detected that, and his radar had never proved him wrong. Harry Potter was a wizard, supposed to be, anyways - and yet, in this year's students list, his name was not listed. The old wizard stopped in the neatest, coziest, and biggest house.

Number 4, Privet Drive

Dumbledore smiled. He knocked on the wooden door and clutched his long, silver beard which seems to beam. A few seconds later, the door opened, and a tall, blonde and horse-toothed woman came out. She sported a beautiful nightgown which didn't reveal much of her body. Petunia Dursley - Dumbledore had met her once when visiting the Evans home. She certainly has changed.

"You," Petunia said, her tone rising. She sputtered out random nonsense, not knowing what to say. In truth, he wanted to slap the man for his unDursleyishness and punch him for bringing the Potter boy to live with them.

"Me," Dumbledore replied calmly. He could feel something was wrong. The cold tone emitting from Petunia's mouth, and the tension growing inside the house. Inside it, powerful magic radiated - the strongest Albus had ever felt! Even Tom's magic wasn't this powerful... "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. We have met before, I believe?"

The man stuck his hand out, but Petunia stayed frigid. She froze in place, not knowing what to say or do. Dumbledore sighed. "I need to see Mr. Potter."

"He's not a wizard!" Petunia suddenly snapped. Her face turned bright red as it turned pale, as everything she ever wanted to say erupted from her mouth. "He's not one of your lots, and he will never, ever be! I won't let your freakishness enter my home!"

That all stopped when Dumbledore pulled out his wand. The woman stumbled back. "Please - please, I don't - I don't mean - the boys are at school-"

The old man radiated an aura of danger and power as he entered the home. He rarely used this tactic, but it was highly necessary at the moment. His expression was calm but cold, persuasive but subtle. "I know Harry is here," he stated. "And I would like to see him."

Petunia let out a squeak and pointed down the hallway. Dumbledore turned, and Petunia used this chance to run up to the second bedroom, where Dudley ought to be playing with his toys. His eyes scanned the hallway and out of the corner of his eye, saw a little, scrawny boy scramble towards a cupboard. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. The boy was small, with messy black hair and pale figure.

"Harry?" Dumbledore called out. "Harry."

He reached the cupboard, ducked, and opened it. The young boy was sitting - shivering, on top of an unmade bed which covered the whole cupboard. Toys littered the bed, and spiders crawled the uncolored walls. The only light was a small, yellow ball of light hanging from the ceiling. Harry inched further, his whole body shaking and pale.

"Harry. I'm Professor Dumbledore."

"I'm not mad!" the boy suddenly screamed. "I'm not mentally ill - I'm not a lunatic! Please!"

Dumbledore had another sense of deja vu. He had a similar conversation decades back when he met young Tom Riddle, living in an orphanage. "No, Harry, you are not crazy. You are unique - powerful. You can do magic."

His face grew dark. A dark, misty figure came out of Harry's hand - it was a stag, lashing at Dumbledore. But Dumbledore didn't flinch. He stayed in place, wondering curiously at the attacking stag. It eventually dispersed, and Harry cried against the wall.

"Harry, I can do magic, just like you," Dumbledore said lightly. "You are special, Harry. You're a wizard."

This time, Harry sobbed louder. The walls covered the wailing cries, and the spiders casually crawled into Harry's hair. Harry looked away, sniffed, and let the spiders crawl into his hand. "I know. They told me."

"Your aunt and uncle?"

Harry shook his head and pointed towards it. "The voices. The deep sounds. They're evil - they're mean! They want me to do mean things!"

This time, Dumbledore was alarmed. The shivering boy, the inability to be listed in Hogwarts, the power radiating, the voices - could it be? "Describe."

"NO!" Harry's voice turned deep and hoarse, and his face turned dark. Dark fog filled the room, surrounding the boy, before dispersing to reveal Harry - but taller, more athletic, more handsome - and more mysterious. Dumbledore was instantly reminded of Tom Riddle.

Harry's eyes were still green, yes, but it could barely be seen - it was like he had no pupils. "Dumbledore..." he whispered in another hoarse voice. He was lifted up, and a fireball surrounded both his hands. Calmly, Dumbledore flickered his wand, and a phoenix Patronus erupted from it, surrounding Harry. The fire disappeared, and Harry dropped towards his small bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Petunia slowly ascending downstairs. Dumbledore flicked his wand once more, and Petunia came rushing up.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, more softly this time, to the newly tall boy. "That was magic. I could help you with the voices."

All the boy could do was shiver and nod. A flicker of fear was visible in his pale eyes, as his sweat and tears soaked the bedcover. "I will come back tomorrow morning." he then scanned the room. "You live here?"

Harry nodded.

"Pack your things - all of them. I will return tomorrow morning."

And after bidding goodbye to the family, Dumbledore apparated towards his office at Hogwarts, where he instantly took Floo powder and threw them into the fireplace. "Newt Scamander."

After three seconds, a cheerful face appeared. Newt Scamander's hair was pale red, almost gray, and his face was starting to wrinkle. He wore a Bow to Bowtruckles! Brown hat and a thin cloak. After seeing Dumbledore's face, he stopped smiling.

"Newt, I need you in my office, right now."

"Albus - anything wrong?"

"Bring Ms. Goldstein with you. I want the two of you here. This is URGENT."

Albus Dumbledore sat in the red and gold chair, trying so hard to maintain a perfect posture, his face turned green. Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein noted this. While Newt was only starting to get gray hair, Tina's hair was almost white. Her brown eyes revealed fatigue, stress, and sleepiness.

"You two have an experience with Obscurials, correct?"

"Now-"

Dumbledore decided to drop the bomb on them. Better now than never. "Harry Potter is an Obscurial."

Tina Goldstein sat, processing the new information while thinking of the possibilities if the statement was true. Newt Scamander wondered whether his old friend and Professor had gone incredibly mad.

"Harry Potter - by Harry Potter, you mean, the boy who lived?" Tina asked, her voice now high pitched and shook.

Albus Dumbledore nodded grimly, and ultimately betrayed his perfect pose. He slumped into his chair tiredly, suddenly looking thirty years older. His wrinkles started to show, and his eyes lost the twinkles that once inhabited it.

"But Albus, how-"

"He was abused by his family. Forgive me; I am an old man. I left him with his aunt and uncle, hoping they would give him care; Alas, they hated magic," the professor stopped, a lump forming in his throat. "I believe he hid his magic away, and the Obscurial grew."

Newt and Tina sat their mouths agape. Dumbledore sighed in frustration, bowing his head. The hero of the Wizarding World, the key to ending the upcoming war - if this problem is not solved right now, the world would indeed end. The problem was, he knew next to nothing about Obscurials, other than the times in which he read about them.

"I am sure the two of you has some experience with Obscurials," Dumbledore muttered. "I need your help. Britain needs your help."

Albus Dumbledore let out his deepest and darkest secrets, the key to defeating Voldemort. How he thought a piece of Voldemort's soul is imbedded in Harry's head, how Harry is the Chosen One - and as Dumbledore revealed this new piece of information, he grew warier and felt as useless as ever. By the end of his explanation, Tina was in tears, and Newt struggled to say anything.

"The piece of Voldemort's soul... if what you thought was true," Newt started quietly. "Then it has been aiding the Obscurial, while at the same time, aiding the boy's soul. The boy is eleven, correct? Obscurials above the age of eleven are exceedingly rare; only a few has been recorded to."

"Curing an older Obscurial might prove to be impossible," Tina said under her breath. "With a piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside him, I don't know - it's impossible - nothing can help."

"We can help," Newt said in a higher tone. Dumbledore and Tina stared at him, waiting for his answer, and Newt turned red, noticing he had blurted out. "Tina, remember the expedition where we saved two Obscurials in Peru?"

Albus's ears perked up as he leaned in to listen to the story. "Elaborate."

"They were girls - little girls," Newt started. Tina turned pale just remembering it, and Pick, Pickett's son, chirped in misery. The little bowtruckle were eavesdropping inside his owner's pocket. "They were otherwise kind, but you know how the magical community is in Peru. Magic is strong there; no-majs - muggles, are becoming more suspicious. There is a seventy percent chance the muggle community will find out about the magical community by the end of the year."

Dumbledore was alarmed. He's heard about the condition there in Peru but didn't think much of it, but then he remembered Tom - his sly and cunning nature. He would certainly take advantage of this. An Obscurial growing in that area would be bound to happen at some point.

"The girls both live in an area where full of Muggles who loathe magic. They are forced to suppress their magic; you know what this means, Albus. Their magic would eventually turn dark, and so it did, growing the Obscurial within everyone's soul.

"This was how our book 'The Obscurial Within' was created. Inspired by Credence," Newt stopped for a second, his mind spinning with memories. Tears trickled down Tina's face, reminding her of the event which happened decades ago. Dumbledore stayed silent, observing the scene in front of him. "We decided to find out more about Obscurials. They aren't exactly - and are not, magical creatures, or beasts. They are, as we found-"

"A piece of one's soul?" Dumbledore interrupted. "Something alarmed me from the research stated in your book. While your theory of it being a piece of one's soul-"

"Not entirely," Tina intersected. "It is essentially a part of one's magical soul, a dark one. We have found that everyone has a piece of that inside of them - or as we call the Pre-Obscurial. It will not affect most wizards, but growing up in an environment like these two girls did, and Mr. Potter-"

"The Obscurial will grow," Dumbledore concluded, nodding. But this piece of information seemed familiar. How it has to do with a certain dark lord-

The man lifted a finger and went up towards his personal library, all the while chatting with his two friends. "And you do know, perhaps, of the cure to this Obscurial?" Dumbledore asked loudly, frantically searching for a thick book in his storage.

Newt and Tina had shared a glance before Newt decided to speak up. "I do think you know the answer to that," Tina said, half-amused and half-sad.

Dumbledore turned, bringing some sort of thick book with him, and settled down on his usual seat, putting the book down on the oak table. "Love," Newt added. "Love is the only cure we know for Obscurials. The Patronus charm works, but for short-term only."

While Dumbledore wanted to discuss this further, he had an equally important matter to discuss. He trailed to the title of the book. "Horcruxes," he stated.

Both Tina and Newt turned pale. "Since I learned of the Potter's death, I've suspected - but your evidence about Obscurials-" Dumbledore said. "You do know, perhaps, that a Horcrux is a piece of one's soul? A piece of dark magic? It is stated that the only way one could form a Horcrux is by murder. Harry Potter was almost killed, was it not for his mother's sacrifice. The killing curse made contact with his body, but it bounced off the boy, killing Tom Riddle instead."

"You're not telling me that a Horcrux is living inside the boy? The soul of the Dark Lord living inside him is a Horcrux?" asked Tina.

"That is my theory. That is not to say, however, that Mr. Potter is the only Horcrux that Tom Riddle has or will ever make," the old man stated. The couple in front of him thought about this - the connection between Horcruxes and Obscurials just found

"That is what has triggered the Obscurial to grow at a fast rate; it must have been protecting it, too," Newt theorized. "And combined with a Horcrux, and the killing curse..."

The trio needn't speak more. Countless theories and facts spun around their mind as the only sound heard was Pick's chirping and clicking.


	2. Chapter 1

"I said I would be okay alone," the boy repeated in a threatening tone. The professor, though, seemed calm.

"Harry, I will not let you-"

"I've faced more things than you think I have," Harry snapped. The messy haired boy aimed to advance but stopped himself as dark mist seemed to erupt from his hand. "I know magic, the voices told me, I've been studying Alchemy since the age of seven!"

Dumbledore stayed silent. What did he mean by the voices? Was it a part of Riddle's soul, or the Obscurial living within him? He ignored the stares given to the both of them in the small pub and rather focused on the boy's statement about Alchemy. He first studied Alchemy by the age of nineteen, and it was the most challenging magical field out there.

Harry took a piece of paper from his robes, a pen, and scribbled away, while Dumbledore gulped his Butterbeer. "What exactly are you writing?"

"None of your business."

Dumbledore put down his glass of Butterbeer, amused. "I do think it's time we get going, Mr. Potter. We've been in this pub - arguing, I must say, for more than a quarter of an hour-"

Then there was an explosion, and the boy was gone, leaving a piece of paper behind. Dumbledore sat, shocked, while the crowd gave him curious stares, discussing among themselves if the Harry Potter had just disappeared out of thin air. Tom gave him a look of pity as if this was a normal occurrence.

Did the boy just apparate?

The old man was talking, and the boy took advantage of that. His similarities with Riddle, how he wanted to be alone, and how he seemed all too independent - Dumbledore shook his head. It can't be too late. He must save the boy to save the Wizarding World. Standing up to search for the boy, he opened the piece of paper and read the short, messy, and big handwriting written:

I am fine. Don't search.

Don't believe: go to Vernon's house at 8 PM.

Dumbledore didn't know what to say. "Sneaky," he muttered, chuckling. The boy was more of a Slytherin than he thought. He decided to let him go for now - he had wanted to test his skills, anyway, and more than a dozen of loyal witches and wizards here will be able to alarm him if something went wrong. He wanted to test his independence, and his knowledge of the Wizarding World due to the 'voices' he heard.

The door swung open to reveal a family of three. Dumbledore stood up to greet his old friend, Nicolas Flamel, and his - tenth grandson, he thought, before mentally chuckling.

Harry had successfully teleported (not apparated) to inside Diagon Alley. He teleported almost everyday. The young boy didn't know how, but he knew that it was somehow connected to the voices inside his head.

 _This is Diagon Alley, Harry;_ a voice echoed in his head. _You will receive your first wand here. Your first murder._

The boy shook his head, already used to this kind of conversation. His skin tickled. Something moved under his sleeves - Harry walked towards the sidewalk and let Nalgae slither to his hand. The winged snake slithered to Harry's shoulders, where he admired the place.

 _Diagon Alley_ , the snake hissed. This was another thing. Harry could speak snake language, but he didn't exactly want to show it off to the public, so he nodded. _Go to Ollivander's._

Harry followed his Occamy's orders, walking calmly in a composed posture towards the visible shop. He was stopped by an Auror, who had bubblegum pink hair and a crazed gleam in her eye. "Excuse me, young man. Is there a reason for the Occamy on your shoulder?"

Something lurched inside his body, and the voices said, _kill her_! Harry turned towards the auror and gave her a sharp stare. "He is my familiar," he said coldly, putting power to his words. The auror didn't flinch, and Harry raised his eyebrow. "As far as I know, woman, carrying pets to the Alley is legal, especially trained ones. Nalgae is not dangerous; I assure you."

Then, someone - someone whom Harry wanted to bite - exclaimed, "That's Harry Potter!"

That part of the street stopped, as everyone started to crowd the poor boy, wanting to have a look at the Potter. The female auror was forced to act when a bald man tried to Accio the boy. But Harry was more than capable of taking care of himself. He grabbed the auror by the shoulder harshly and teleported into the entrance of Ollivander's.

The auror coughed, looking green and sick, and swayed around like she was drunk. "Come on, I don't have much time," Harry hissed. "Don't you have crowd control over here?"

"Did you just apparate?" The auror coughed. Aurors started to control the crowd, who all claimed that Harry Potter had disappeared.

"I teleported," Harry replied glancing at the building. The shop was narrow and shabby, providing a gold marking saying: _Ollivander's, Makers of Fine Wands_.

"Same thing," she commented, brushing the dirt off her pants.

"It's different," the boy turned. "Don't you have some Auror duties to attend to, anyways? I assure you, I could take care of my own."

The pink haired Auror stared at him, then blinked as if just remembering something. "You're Harry Potter?"

Harry lifted his head to face her darkly. "Yes. Anything wrong with that?" he snarled. The auror, though, unlike others, didn't flinch. Harry wondered. For years now, he had used that trick to make people do what he wants, but that auror - she's different, Harry concluded.

"No," The auror said quickly. "It's just - why are you so snappy?"

Harry laughed. "I'm in a good mood!"

"Anyways, I've gotta accompany you, because having that Occamy - while I'm sure it means no harm, other aurors might think otherwise. By being with you, I will be able to reverse that thought."

 _Just kill her,_ the deep voice said. _She's worthless; she cannot be manipulated; she is no use to you. Kill her, now_. Harry sneered, hoping the voices would just go away, but he agreed with the voices, at least to a certain extent.

The woman was different, but Harry wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. He lifted his head and glared at the woman, who stared back with a sharp look, arms crossed, as if she was used to handling these kinds of things everyday.

But what she said was true. He was too lazy to explain to every auror he met about Nalgae the Occamy - it was just not worth his time. "Fine," Harry said. "That is if you promise to shut your mouth and not disturb me. Then I'd be forced to kill you."

Tonks snorted, but she got a feeling the Potter boy wasn't joking. "Where's your companion, anyway? Isn't a professor, or your aunt and uncle accompanying you?"

"None of your business."

The auror scoffed, never finding someone this feisty except for her mentor, Mad-Eye. She reached out her hand. "My name's Tonks. Call me Tonks."

Harry didn't accept the handshake. Instead, he turned back towards the building. "Harry, why's your Occamy staring at me like I'm lunch?"

Harry tilted his head towards Nalgae, who were resting around his neck, its wings surrounding him like a scarf, but its head were focused on Tonks. "That's because you won't shut up."

"No need to be rude, geez."

Harry pushed the door open, and Nalgae turned his head towards the building. _This is Ollivianders_ , Nalgae hissed. _I've heard about the shopkeeper-_

The serpent was stopped when an old man stood up properly on the counter, looking straight at Harry. The man had wide, pale eyes and a wild, Shakespeare-like white hair. _That's Garrick Ollivander_ , Nalgae added.

"Mr. Potter," said Ollivander. He didn't seem fazed or scared by the snake in the room - instead, a gaze of curiosity.

"I am here to buy my wand," Harry stated coldly, not backing up to the unnerving stares Ollivander gave him.

"And - Nymphadora Tonks," Ollivander said, looking at Tonks. Hm, Harry thought. She had never told him her full name. Tonks nodded, and opened her mouth, but was cut off. "Twelve inches, oak wood, hawthorn and dragon heartstring?"

Tonks nodded, looking like she had swallowed a whole potato. _She doesn't like her first name_ , Nalgae observed. _You can use that against her_.

"And oh my - excuse me, how very curious - is that an Occamy? If I am not mistaken, from the aura, you are his familiar, yes? Here at Ollivander's, we are trying to use Occamy scales as cores, but these wands are too powerful. Exceptionally good at dueling, espescially when combatting the cores of dragon heartstring and pheonix feather-"

Ollivander's face lit up as if he had just learned of something very important. Ollivander approached Harry, now inches in front of him. He could feel Tonks shuffling uncomfortably behind him. "His wand - Pheonix Feather core - the wand that did this," he touched Harry's scar.

Pain trickled down his forehead, as the deep voices multiplied to a million, all screaming: "HARRY POTTER!" His mind was overwhelmed. Memories of his parents' death, of the Dursley's abuse, everything went at once, including the feeling of his forehead being ripped from him-

Darkness surrounded the shop. It seemed like the candles had died, as Harry leaped back, wailing in pain.

But then it was over. The pain. The darkness. Ollivander stared at him as if nothing happened, and Tonks held him back. "Don't touch me!" Harry bellowed. Nalgae hissed, leaping for Ollivander, but was stopped with an animated shadow, looking like rope, which surrounded Ollivander, and the old man struggled for dear life. It gripped his neck, and Ollivander kneeled down, choking-

"Mr. Olliviander!" Tonks stepped forward, waved her wand, and conjured a Patronus that looked like a jack rabbit. The Shadow died, and Ollivander went frigid, falling hard towards the wooden floor.


	3. Chapter 2

Harry froze as Tonks kneeled down and started healing Olliviander. _Master, you need to control it!_ Nalgae hissed.

 _I can't, I don't know how,_ Harry hissed back quietly. Olliviander sat up, his eyes whiter than usual and face paler. "No, it's okay - I am fine. Let's find a wand for Mr. Potter."

Harry turned his head towards the window, where witches and wizards went about their daily life, as if nothing had happened. He sighed with relief. Tonks stared at Harry nervously, and Harry stared back, a sneer on his face. Tonks didn't back up, though, glaring back and turning to Mr. Olliviander, who had stood up and started searching for wands as if nothing had happened. "Are you sure you're okay, Mr. Olliviander?" Tonks asked. "I'm really sorry."

"No, I'm fine," he replied, taking a small box with him. "Seriously. Ms. Tonks, take a seat. No need to worry, there."

Harry marched forward stopping in front of the counter, where Tonks sat on a wooden stool. "You have some Galleons, don't you?"

 _Galleons are wizarding currency_ , Nalgae said. Harry shook his head. "We cannot use Muggle money?"

Tonks sighed, shaking his head. "You could use my money - you should replace it as soon as possible, though - get some money from Gringgots, you have the key, right? - I'm not giving away Galleons for a complete stranger."

Olliviander stopped in front of him and dropped the box. "Mr. Olliviander, my apologies," Harry said. "I lost control-"

The old man shushed him, giving him a smile. "You are a curious case, Harry Potter," he told him. Ollviander opened the box to reveal a wand, comfortably laying on purple cushion. "Acacia wood, veela hair, bone, twelve inches."

 _Try a spell,_ Nalgae hissed. _Lumos_. Harry took the wand, his hands shaking, and flicked it. "Lumos."

The building shook. Tonks laughed about this, and Olliviander quickly snatched the wand, looking for another one. "Does this always happen?" Harry asked. "Why can't he find a proper one immediately, anyway?"

"He's not Merlin," Tonks said. "What's up with your magic, anyway?"

Harry lifted his head slowly, a dangerous expression on his face. The aura of power radiated from him frantically. Tonks was like non other. She was not afraid to speak her mind; Harry didn't know if that was bad or good. For the first time, she flinched. "What is that?" she asked. "Bloody hell, are you Albus Dumbledore in disguise?"

He ignored that and instead tried for another wand, but it broke a flower vase. And they repeated the process, five more times, gaining similar reactions. Harry was getting redder and redder, his lips set to a scowl and fists clenched. "We've been here, what, half an hour?" he asked. Olliviander looked away from his wand-searching to look at the angry boy, and Tonks listened quietly from the stool, changing her hair ocassionaly. Nalgae, on the other hand, was flying around the room, occasionally changing lengths, showing off her magical abilities. "I bet people are outside, waiting. You're a wandmaker, aren't you? Can't you do something to make this process faster? Or… I dunno, make a new wand?"

At least he hadn't lost control, Harry mused. Olliviander lifted a finger and smiled. "Nice suggestion, Mr. Potter," he said, not seeming to mind the Occamy now circling above him. He approached him swiftly, his robes billowing, a wicked gleam visible in his pale eyes. "You are aware that _Voldemort_ 's wand core is Pheonix Feather? As I said before, Occamy scales are good and powerful cores for duelling, and it works espescially for Dragon Heartstring and Pheonix Feather cores…"

"So that means-" Tonks said, trailing off.

It didn't took Harry much to put two and two together. "But isn't he dead? At least, that was what I heard. Dumbledore didn't exactly elaborate on what he was."  
"It is believed, Mr. Potter, that Lord Voldemort is not dead," the old man stated. "Dumbledore is an advocate for this belief, though not publicly; in fact, there are rumors on where the soul of the dark lord is located, possibly in Albania.

"I do not wish to give you any ideas, boy. I am suggesting, if things do go wrong, you can have a powerful wand to defend yourself with," he said. "Merlin knows if Voldemort was still alive, he would not rest until you do."

Ideas flickered in Harry's mind. He was surprised that the voices went mute as this unfolded. He wanted to make Lord Voldemort suffer; The voices in his head, and the pain in his soul - they must be linked to this Lord Voldemort.

Nalgae had revealed long ago that his parents didn't die from a car crash, instead, they were murdered by Voldemort. Long before since, Nalgae would go out to the Wizarding World and steal weekly news, to give Harry light of the Wizarding World.

His occamy familiar was not the only one aiding him with the wizarding world. The voices were the first to tell him that he was, in fact, a wizard. Since then, the voices had told him multiple spells, and Harry wasn't sure what they could actually do.

"Very well, I accept," Harry said.

"The problem is," Olliviander continued, searching through shelves. "I've run out from Occamy scales. It turns out a lot of duellists are attending Hogwarts this year."

Olliviander stared at Nalgae, who hissed and shrunk to Harry's pocket, where it shivered. "No!" Harry exclaimed. "No."

Olliviander turned towards Harry curiously. "It won't hurt, Mr. Potter. It would certainly benefit the both of you - a powerful magical bond might be created," he said. "These bonds diversify - in most cases, it would have no effect at all - but, since you are its familiar, interesting events might occur."

Nalgae's now tiny head peeked out of Harry's pockets. "These effects include?"

"You know Gwenog Jones, do you?"

Harry shook his head. Tonks gaped at him. "Gwenog Jones? The captain of the Holyhead Harpies? She's the best female Chaser in the world! Some say the best, for all genders!"

"Yes, Ms. Tonks, correct," Olliviander said, nodding. "She bought her wand from this store, just like the both of you. Her core was Screech Owl Feather - the feather was from her owl. As a result, she was able to improve her relationship with her owl - and she was able to fly better, rather if she was chosen by a dragon heartstring core, or an occamy scale core. Rumors say she is able to talk with her owl, though I am not sure if I can verify that."

Harry stroked Nalgae's tiny head. _It's up to you,_ he hissed. Nalgae grew to his usual size and was, again, wrapped in his shoulders. He looked up and saw both Olliviander and Tonks looking at him as if he had turned into a snake. "I'm a Parseltongue," he snapped. "Got a problem with that?"

Olliviander shook his head, chuckling. "You sure are full of surprises, Potter," said Tonks. "Parseltongues are rare - very rare."

"Yes, in fact, one of the only known Parseltongues are descendants of Slytherins themselves."

He ignored the two and looked at Nalgae. The snake looked torned - it kept shaking its head between Harry and Olliiviander. _As long as it benefits the both of us_ , it finally decided. Harry sighed, and said, "Fine. Make sure it doesn't hurt."

"It doesn't," Olliviander assured him. Harry felt he had spent hours in Ollivianders, the process was in fact, tiring. After taking five scales Nalgae had found himself playing with Tonks. "Aspen wood will be the job, I believe. And I must add another core, Unicorn Hair.

"You see, Occamy scales are usually used for second wands for duellists - their duelling wands. Therefore it would be difficult for a child to master. It takes very much power to do so. However, when mixed with a tolerant core like Unicorn Hair, it will be fairly easier for a child to master."

"Okay," Harry said, nodding.

"How much does it cost, though?" Tonks asked. She had symbolized her boredom by playing with her wand, and creating swarms of bees which flew around the room, and Nalgae would chase them, occasionally eating one. "I've heard custom-made wands cost much."

"50 Galleons," Olliviander stated. "Furthermore, it will take me five hours to make, and I can't close my shop - therefore I will send your wand through owl tomorrow."

"How much does a galleon cost in pounds?" Harry asked, looking at Tonks.

"Five, I think."

Harry almost dropped his jaw. "That's - that's expensive!"

"With the money your parents have, Mr. Potter, I am certain you will be able to pay for this," the old man said.

Harry didn't know much about his parents's wealth; Nalgae may have mentioned it quite a few times. But at moments like these, he found himself missing the voice.

 _You do not need to pay,_ the voice finally decided to make an appearance. Though it sounded much more hoarse, and its voice are much more composed. _In fact, I suggest getting a wand from a different_ _maker._

No, Harry thought. That would not work.

 _Then kill him! Think what you can have with fifty Galleons, boy!_ The voice snapped. Harry felt electricity trickle down his veins - magic, and the desire to kill was great once again. He lifted his head to see Olliviander's wide eye and slowly lifted his hand.

 _You know the what to do_ , the voice added.

 _Master! What is wrong with you,_ Nalgae snapped, before enjoying a gulp of bees. He had stopped his little game and looked at Harry. All eyes were on him. He blinked and shook his head. "Fine," he spat. "I'll buy it."

He did not know know where this hostility came from, nor do he care, for Albus Dumbledore, followed by an Auror, entered the door.


	4. Chapter 3

_****DISCLAIMER:****_

 _ ** **I do not own the character, Tegwen Gittins. I am using Tegwen Gittins;****_ _ ** **kmbell92****_ _ ** **'s character from her Newt Scamander fanfictions in Wattpad. I believe she would be the right role for Newt's wife. If you want to see more of Tegwen (that is to say, young Tegwen, because apparently, people get more boring as they get older) check out,****_ _ ** **kmbell92****_ _ ** **'s books Rectify and Acrimony.****_

 ** _ **Also, this is not a continuation of the last chapter; this features Dumbledore paying a visit to the Ministry of Magic when Harry was out with Tonks. If you want to see what happens next after the last episode, then I suggest you read the next chapter. When it comes out, anyways.**_**

After having a good talk with his old friend Nicolas Flamel and his tenth grandchildren, Albus decided to pay a visit to the minister of magic. After all, he had seen Mr. Potter arguing with the daughter of Andromeda, and decided that he was in safe hands.

Cornelius Fudge was having a discussion with the very generous Lucius Malfoy but decided to put their conversation to a halt when Dumbledore arrived. Dumbledore rarely visited, so it was safe to assume that it was an important matter.

"Dumbledore!" the portly little man said. "What - what - what, I say, do I owe this pleasure for?"

"We need to have a lengthy discussion, Cornelius, I have much to discuss," Dumbledore said. He cocked his head to the side and saw a man with long, platinum blonde hair. "Lucius. Doing good, I suppose?"

"I'm doing very well," Lucius spat, a glare set towards the old man. Dumbledore looked back with a smile and a dancing twinkle in his eyes.

Cornelius, noticing this exchange, summoned two stools in front of his desks and motioned the two to sit down. "Well, sit down then," he said, taking his seat. "Well, I don't have very long, Dumbledore, Lucius and I will have to talk about - well, things... Want a drink? Tea, or coffee?"

"Tea would be good," Dumbledore said, nodding. Lucius scooted away a little bit from the old man. He replied with an amused glance.

A glass of tea appeared in front of the bearded man, and he gladly accepted it, taking a sip. "I trust you know I am not here to take a glass of tea," Dumbledore said. "I have a few matters to discuss concerning the boy-who-lived."

Cornelius's eyes went ablaze. Dumbledore lifted his hand up. "I do not wish to beat around the bush. But believe me when I tell you; Harry Potter is an Obscurial."

Cornelius almost dropped his bowler hat, while Lucius bit his lips. It took a second before- "That's impossible! No, Dumbledore, you're mad, I say - it is impossible, virtually no chance-"

Once again the old man lifted his hand, and the room went silent. "Do you wish me to bring Newton Scamander and Porpentina Goldstein, and Mr. Harry Potter himself for you to believe, minister? Is there possibly a reason why I might lie to you?"

"Well - no, that's no-"

"Surely you aren't letting him attend Hogwarts, Dumbledore?" Lucius asks, eyeing Dumbledore. "The safety of the students in our school is my primary concern."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is what I want to discuss this moment. While he is an Obscurial, he is also a lonely child," he said, nodding. "If we lock him up and refuse to provide significant care, including education, the Obscurial will grow."

"But, Dumbledore-"

"It might interest you that I know the cure for Obscurials," Dumbledore continued. "Yes, I have spoken with Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein - the authors of The Obscurial Within themselves. The cure is very simple; I believe I overlooked it for decades. It is love."

Fudge wondered whether he should take the Headmaster seriously or not. His friend Lucius, on the other hand, thought of different scenarios in which he could benefit from. He was a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and he could easily take advantage of a situation like this.

"But you must be joking, Dumbledore!" Fudge exclaimed. "Even so, I refuse to have an Obscurial living in a school full of-"

"Let's see what Lucius has to say," Dumbledore interjected. "He is, after all, the one that should be responsible for situations like this."

Dumbledore was testing him, Lucius thought. While the man was an old lunatic, he was certainly a smart one. He needed to play this smoothly; he will not make his plans visible. "I do believe we should give Potter a chance, minister," Lucius said. "After all, what would the Wizarding World say if the Boy Who Lived wasn't given a chance to enter the greatest wizarding school of all time?"

He had planted a seed. But for it to grow, he must wait for Fudge to water it. He had read the famous book The Obscurial Within which had revealed a shocking truth about Obscurials - a boy like Potter, an Obscurial; he could always use to his advantage.

It could bring him to good light with the lighter families; and if the rumors were true, that the Dark Lord was biding his time at a forest in Albania, then he could easily hand Potter to him. And if news came out that he had protected Potter, then the dark families would think that Lucius was planning something with the boy, which would bring his family to a good light.

He could live with him, Lucius concluded. Draco needs to make friends with him.

"Well, I suppose so, but what if - what would the parents-"

"Perhaps it would be prudent to station aurors at Hogwarts, not only for the safety of Potter but Hogwarts as well; should I remind you of the rumors concerning the Dark Lord, Cornelius?"

"He is not alive! Rumors, I say!"

"Even so, it would be important to stay vigilant. Perhaps we could station trainee aurors. For that, we will have to contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"I might add that I have a few contacts on St. Mungo's which will help Harry's mental state,"

Dumbledore added. He knew Lucius was playing a game; he didn't want to play it with him. Beside Harry, Lucius was one of the only people he must be wary of.

The minister slumped on his seat when Lucius took the Headmaster's side. He fixed his bowler hat, and with a great sigh, said, "I must be crazy, but if you say so, Lucius..."

Albus Dumbledore smiled and fixed his robe. "Now that that's settled-"

"I'm sorry if I'm blunt, Dumbledore, but how exactly did Harry Potter transform himself into an Obscurial?"

The Headmaster stood up, his lips twitching. "The both of you know I am getting older; that does not necessarily mean I am getting nicer. I made a mistake of letting Harry live with his abusive relatives. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with Horace Slughorn."

The Supreme Mugwump apparated away, and Lucius couldn't be much happier.

Newt Scamander sighed, sweat trickling down his face towards his pile of journals. After learning about the Potter boy, Newt began massive research on Obscurials and recalled his past experiences. His eyes kept zoning out, and he couldn't exactly process what he read due to Pick's chirping.

"Pick, stop it!" Newt snapped, lifting his head up towards Pick. Pick had found resort above a shelf containing sculptures of magical beasts. The bowtruckle blew a raspberry at him.

Everytime Pick did this; he felt a pang in his heart in memory of Pickett. His death hit him hard... mostly due to what caused it. Patrick the niffler, on the other hand, found himself repeatedly throwing up a golden coin, chasing it, picking it up, and repeating the process.

The door shifted open, and Tegwen Scamander entered, a cup of tea on her hand. "You're overworking," she said, a smile on her face. "I made some tea."

The niffler tugged softly at Tegwen's robes, and the woman looked down, before chuckling. "Yes, Patrick?" she asked. The niffler lifted the coin up, a puppy-dog look on his eyes. "I'm sorry, I have to have a talk with your father there-" she pointed to the ruffle-haired man. "But you can play with Rolfie."

Patrick scrambled towards the exit but bumped at the door. Laughing, Tegwen flicked her wand, and the door opened, letting Patrick go, before closing once again.

"Twiggy," Newt groaned. "This is a serious matter."

"When did I say it was not?" she replied, setting the tea down and pushing it further towards Newt, who were forced to drink it. "And besides, what did the healer say?"

After taking a sip, Newt pushed a journal towards Tegwen, who took it. "This is serious, Tegwen," he said, emphasizing on her name. "On that journal is what we know about Harry's case. Albus is planning to house him here."

Tegwen stared at him, her eyes squinting.

"Well?" Newt asked.

"Well, what?"

"Tegwen, he's an Obscurial, we are having an Obscurial in our house!"

"You said it yourself, Newton, Obscurials are also humans!" Tegwen snapped. "He is a child, Newt, a child needing love. The problem is, no one is providing him it."

Lord Voldemort was not happy, to say the least. For one, he was in a dark space, with the inability to sense. He was merely floating in a dark space with the only sanctuary being his intelligent mind. And for two, Harry Potter, his arch, eleven-year-old nemesis, had just bought an overpowered wand which was born opposite to his wand core.

Of course, when he said his mind, he meant both him and Potter's. He could hear his thoughts, but he couldn't control it. He could, however, throw in his opinions once in awhile.

He needed to drive the boy crazy. He had been overjoyed when he learned about the growing Obscurial in Harry's soul - he had long since lived by nurturing the Obscurial, gaining him at least a bit of control over Potter. By that, he meant he could see what the boy was seeing, think what the boy is thinking, and as he said before, throw in his wicked opinions.

One that he wouldn't ever take for granted is his ability to send the boy memories. It was important when he wanted to complete his mission on driving the boy mad. He needed the boy insane when he finally confronts him - and what was his other piece of soul doing? Where was his fellow death eaters when he needed them most?

One day, he knew he would return, stronger than ever. One day he would complete the prophecy and kill the boy himself. And to do that, he needed the boy to be weak, to be easily manipulated. To be mentally scarred. He had always thought sending crucifying thoughts to one's mind using Legilimency were more powerful and painful than the Crucio curse.

And so, the Dark Lord plays the memory of the Potters's death in the orphan's mind, laughing at his misery.

 ** **I'm sorry for the long wait; it's been two or three days I think; also, this chapter is not from Harry's point of view, so I apologize if you want that. But it's fun to explore other people's thoughts. Keep in mind, all of these characters you see here will be important to the plot. What do you think of the chapter?****

 ** **It will make me smile if you take the time to vote.****

 ** **Also, make sure to check out my HP Ranting Book: Ranting is Healthy (Harry Potter Edition). Thanks for reading!****


	5. Chapter 4

Nalgae quickly shrunk to Harry's pocket. A quiet hiss erupted from Harry's lips as Dumbledore and three other people entered the frame. One was a tall, lanky man who had a huge scar on his neck; the other was a woman who was carrying a Niffler and a gold coin; last was a child who had a smile as bright as the sun.

"There you are, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I'm sorry if I am interrupting, Garrick, but please, do continue."

"Albus! Ah, welcome, welcome - Mr. Scamander - Mrs. Scamander, ah, and you young man, take a seat," Olliviander said merrily, flicking his wand. Four more stools appeared around the table. "and my business with Mr. Potter is done - a custom wand, you see - he will receive the wand tomorrow."

The wooden stool scraped as Harry left his seat, quickly grabbing Tonks by the shoulder. "Yes, I believe I need to go now, so long-"

Harry spun, but he was still in the small shop of Olliviander. He did not feel the pleasant sensation of teleportation. He spun again and gained the same reaction. Nothing. A glare was visible on his face, and it was aimed at Albus Dumbledore. His glare shifted into a scowl as the child beside Dumbledore closed his mouth, a sound that suspiciously sounded like a giggle coming from him.

A scrawny, dwarf-like creature appeared, shaking, from behind Dumbledore. "That'll do, Crowie," Dumbledore said, looking down at the creature.

"Thanks, professor Dumbledore, sir!" it said, before spinning. To Harry's annoyance, it succeeded, instantly disappearing into thin air.

"You might find yourself unable to apparate now, Harry," Dumbledore said, taking a seat beside Tonks. Even from afar, Harry could still smell the anomaly of Professor Dumbledore; Harry thought it was impossible that someone like him smelt of Lemon Drops; maybe it was his nose playing with him. The family behind him followed his example, and they, too, smelt unique; the elder woman smelt of flowers, and the man smelt of sweat, while the child simply smelt of soap. "I've asked Crowie the house-elf to set up a ward. You might want to listen to me just for a minute."

With an ugly expression on his face and his nose flaring, he took a seat. "Fine."

"Hey, Rolf!" Tonks was high-fiving the child in the family, while the elders - probably his grandparents - gave her a nod. The boy, Rolf, flashed Tonks a grin.

"These are the Scamanders, Harry. I suspect you do not want to live with the Dursleys again, and therefore-"

Dark turned bright in the boy's face, as he almost stood up frantically. "I - I get not to live with the Dursleys again?"

"The Scamanders has agreed to provide you hospitality. This man is Newt Scamander, Harry, I do not know if you are familiar with him and his books, and Tegwen Scamander, his wife," Dumbledore motioned at the couple. He then pointed at the child. "That is Rolf Scamander, fellow first year. He has bought his wand yesterday, but hadn't had the time to shop for anything else."

"I'll be shopping with you!" the boy said. It was only now that Harry noticed; his light brown hair almost seemed ginger; it looked like flames, beaming under the sun.

"Yay," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Great, another addition. He just hoped the boy wasn't as talkative as Tonks.

"Ms. Tonks, I believe you will accompany these two? Great, now that that's settled, off you trot," Dumbledore said, his voice lighter than usual.

Rolf jumped towards the ground, waved his wand around towards his grandparents, and rushed towards the door. "What are we waiting for!? Come on!"

The couple followed behind, with Harry sighing. He turned his small head towards Tonks and said, "is he always like this?"

"He's a fun kid," Tonks said, shrugging.

"So, Dumbledore, I believe you want to talk," Olliviander said, standing up. Footsteps were audible as Olliviander went towards a shelf, taking a piece of wood.

"Yes, that is true. Though, I believe your customers wouldn't mind?"

"No, in fact-" he flicked his wand towards the entrance, where the _OPEN_ sign turned to _CLOSE_. "Mr. Potter is one of the only children who bought a wand today. Most had bought them yesterday."

He turned towards the table and sat, facing the trio. The wood was split into half as Olliviander sliced through it quite roughly. "This will be Mr. Potter's wand," he stated, before continuing cutting.

Tegwen Scamander flashed her husband a look, while Albus Dumbledore had a bright twinkle on his eye. "Err, right. Mr. Olliviander?" asked Newt. "we would like to inquire Harry Potter's behavior, and your impression of him, sir. Onlookers say he was inside your shop for quite a long time."

"Mr. Potter is not ordinary; I am not surprised when I felt his magic - alas, it seemed like he had inherited Tom Riddle's magic," Olliviander said. "why do you ask?"

"Nothing! Err, we just - merely noticed a strange quirk in his behaviour. Is there - any other matter of importance we must know?"

With a shake of his wand, the shelf door crashed open. A silvery wide plate zoomed from it, landing on Olliviander's desk. "Mr. Potter is special. I cannot explain him with words. Therefore, I think it is prudent to show the three of you what had happened, instead of me merely planning."

As they finished Olliviander's memory, the whole scene replayed over and over at one Albus Dumbledore's mind. If he was triggered at such little things - and he was merely given one chance by the ministry in Hogwarts - his future wouldn't be too bright.

"Where are we going?" Rolf asked. "why is it taking so long!? Can't we just go to the bookstore already!?"

Harry wished he had a pair of earmuffs. Just when he thought Tonks was the most talkative human being on earth.

Tonks laughed. "We need to get Harry some of his money, first, Rolfie," said Tonks, ruffling Rolf's hair as they passed the crowd of people eager to get a look of Harry Potter. Luckily, the aurors were keeping everyone composed, and people were almost going back to their daily activities. "ah, look at my fellow kind aurors, glaring at me for hanging out with the Boy-Who-Lived. How's your parents, Rolf?"

"Mom's probably still in the ministry, working her arse off-"

Tonks came into a halt. "Who taught you that language, young man!?"

"You did," Rolf said, shrugging.

"Oh, come on! He said a bad word, big deal!" Harry snapped, glaring at Tonks.

"He's my godson, you know," Tonks said, scoffing. "say, where's Nalgae at, Harry?"

Harry dragged the two towards the side of the road and practically slammed them towards the wall. "No one knows about Nalgae except the two of you. I swear, if people know that I have an occamy-"

"You have an occamy!?" Rolf exclaimed, eyes widening.

A groan escaped from his lips, as he stuffed his fist into Rolf's mouth. "Shhh!" He pulled the fist back and waved the saliva off from it.

"You don't have to throw _his_ saliva at me! I'm wet!"

"Do I look like I care?" Harry snarled. He turned and opened his mouth, but a sudden train of memories hit his brain like a truck.

 _Harry's eyes shifted to James Potter was visible at the Potter house, his face pale."Lily! Lily - take Harry and run - it's him!"_

 _The scene changed to a fat, little man with filthy hair. This statement seemed to come from him,"Oh really, wormtail, and who's the secret keeper?"_

 _"CRUCIO!" Now, all Harry could see was a gangly man writhing and wailing at a dark, cemetery-like mansion. He couldn't feel anything for the man._

 _The scene changed once again to a slender man with platinum blonde hair. This next statement also came from him, "When I attack, Lucius, I expect you and your team to be in front of Dumbledore's door - he must be assasinated as soon as Harry Potter dies."_

 _And the familiar scene of his father's death... James Potter was at the door, saying something inaudible, but a laugh escape from his lips. "Avada Kedavra!"_

 _And finally... Lily Potter layed lifeless, and there was him as a baby..._

Frantic gasps, a spinning mind, and a breathless throat. His face went white as fast as his eyes. Sweat trickled down his unruly hair towards his glowing green eyes, which seemed to be the color of the curse which killed his father...

His head tilted towards the side, his breathing becoming more heavy. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._ You can do this Potter, he told himself.

"You okay, Harry?"

"No, but I don't care. Come on, let's make this trip quick."

 ** **A bit of a disappointing chapter. I really wanted to rewrite this so that it will have a good-enough purpose, but I think this will do for now. In the next episode, we will have a look at Harry's life in the Scamanders, a glimpse of Newt's future, and his sorting, I think.****

 ** **Make sure to vote if you liked it!****


	6. Chapter 5

Harry never thought he'd be so captivated by a history book. Granted, it was a magical history book, but it was still history.

"So Slytherin wasn't evil, was he?" Harry asked Nalgae, who was checking himself out in the new mirror.

 _Master! Look at the handsome snake at the mirror!_ Nalgae hissed, waving his body around.

Rolling his eyes, Harry skipped towards the next page. "That's a mirror, Nalgae. You see your reflection," he said. "but answer my question. Wasn't Slytherin evil?

 _Wee, woo, wee, woo,_ Nalgae danced, until his head hit the mirror, which stumbled. In a millisecond, Nalgae shrunk to Harry's pockets, shivering. Cursing, Harry had to run and sacrifice his body to make sure the glass didn't break into multiple pieces.

Perfect timing, Harry thought, as the door suddenly creaked, revealing Rolf. Under the mirror, Harry groaned. "Harry! What are you doing down there?"

"Hibernating," Harry replied snarkily.

"Well, lemme help you then," Rolf said. He walked over to Harry and lifted the mirror up, leaning it up against the wall. Offering his hand, Rolf huffed when Harry decided to get up on his own. "what happened, mate?"

"Nalgae; he was dancing in front of the mirror," Harry hissed, looking at his pocket.

"Your pet Occamy? Can I see it?"

Nalgae rose from Harry's pocket, his wings majestically spread, staring at Rolf. "Beautiful," Rolf muttered, touching his head.

 _See, he thinks I'm beautiful!_ Nalgae hissed. "You're fueling his ego," Harry chuckled.

 _Master, I want to hunt. I'm hungry,_ he added.

"She said she wants to hunt, you better let go," Harry added. The window flicked open as the winged snake flew past it, disappearing to the forests within.

"You can talk to them?" Rolf asked. Harry nodded. "how?"

"Magic."

"Oh,"

Rolf slipped himself towards Harry's bed scanning his surroundings. "You should go out more often, you know? My grandparents are worried about you."

"I don't want to disturb your family," Harry said, turning to Rolf.

" _You're_ our family now, Harry. Our family doesn't stop in blood," Rolf said. "all of our animals - we can consider them our family. _You_ are our family!"

"You don't know what I am - what I'm capable of," Harry muttered, looking down. "I'm dangerous; you shouldn't be talking to me."

Silence followed the statement, with Rolf shaking his head profusely. Sighing, Harry walked over towards the window and closed it. "Harry," Rolf said. "do you - do you still think of them? Your parents?"

"Every day," Harry replied quietly.

"Do you remember the night - that night. The night they died?"

His scar stung and his brain ached. The memories that was stored in his mind - that was replayed over and over frantically - played again.

 _"Lily! Run - take Harry - it's him! I'll hold him off!"_

 _"Not Harry - not Harry, please!"_

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _The corpses of his deceased parents replayed over in his head, as the Dark Lord pointed his wand at him. "Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry let out a shriek, holding his scar. Blood poured out of it. His eyes turned blood red. Somebody was stabbing at his scar - it felt like it - and his skin was ripped out of him, slowly, and slowly-

A cry escaped from Harry's lips. Rolf ran towards Harry but hissed when he touched him. "Harry! Please! Harry, I'm sorry!"

His eyes went white, and he lost control of his body. He was still there - he could see what was happening, but he couldn't control himself - somebody else was moving his body, and it wasn't him-

The shelves exploded into pieces. Rolf, with tears trickling down his eye, whipped out his wand and pointed it at Harry. The mist protruding from Harry's hand destroyed the bed. Harry stepped forward and pointed his hand at Rolf.

 _No!_ Harry shrieked, but he couldn't do anything. He wasn't in control of his body. The only thing he could do was see and think.

The door slammed open. " _Stupefy!_ "

And Harry fell completely unconscious, spread-eagled on the floor of Scamander manor.

Pandora Scamanander rushed to her only son, who was crying and repeatedly muttering "sorry!". "Rolf - Rolf! Are you okay!"

Rolf nodded. "I - I"

After firing the stunning spell, Newt ran towards Harry and immediately checked his pulse, with Tegwen following right behind. "Call Tina," Newt said, and Tegwen disappeared towards the Flooplace.

"Rolf - what happened?" the mother asked, her voice cracking. Tears trickled down her pale and red face.

"I - I asked Harry about that night - the - the night his parents died-"

"Rolf!" Newt exclaimed, snapping his head at him. "go back to your room."

Rolf continued crying, burying his head in his knees. "Rolf, you can't just ask that," Pandora said, rubbing his son's back. "especially to someone like Harry. You will explain to us everything that's happened later. Now go back to your room for me, darling."

Rolf nodded; he walked towards his room, still burying his head. Pandora sighed and wiped her eyes. "So it's true? Harry Potter is an Obscurial?"

Newt didn't answer. He levitated Harry towards his bed and tucked him in, looking at his daughter. "Did you hear his voice? It seemed like he was tortured."

"I remember his face for a second - it was like he was possessed."

It was all black before he opened his eyes. Still silence. What happened? He could now think - which means he's conscious. Groaning, he moved his left hand.

He was moving.

A gasp erupted from his mouth as he sat up. A woman with gray hair mixed with brown hair smiled at him, her warm brown eyes smiling. "Hello, Harry."

One by one, Harry let the tears trickle down his face as he remembered what had happened. He had lost control of his body, thus destroying his bedroom - and Rolf - what had he done to the boy?

"It's okay," the woman offered her hand, and Harry gripped it, crying. "Harry, I'm Tina. Newt's friend."

"They won't let me stay," Harry sobbed. Images of the Dursleys made him cry even more. The Scamanders didn't want him - not after what had happened - and he needs to go back to the Dursleys...

"Harry, I know the Scamanders... they're kind and loving... especially Newt," Tina smiled, her other hand ruffling Harry's hair.

"I'm possessed," Harry cried. "I'm dangerous..."

"Don't ever say that, Harry. You are _not_ dangerous."

His head bowed, Harry continued sobbing, continuously muttering words like "help," "sorry," and "dangerous." Tina's face turned pale. Long ago, she had failed to save a boy like him... this was for Credence.

"Harry, I once knew of a boy like you," Tina said. Harry lifted his head, sniffing. "his name was Credence. His mother abused him. I can help you, Harry. I will _never_ fail you."

Harry nodded, and the two blend into the scene. Like mother and son.

The blonde haired boy stood in front of the wooden door; his pale skin was seemingly glowing in the dim hallway. "Enter."

The eleven-year-old boy entered, frigid. "You called for me, father?"

The older man, with longer platinum blonde hair and paler skin, stood up from his seat and walked towards his son. "Draco. Tomorrow, you will attend your first day of Hogwarts."

"Yes, father."

"You do know, perhaps, that Harry Potter is in the same year as you."

"Yes, father," at the corner of his eye, at one of the silver shelves, he saw a glowing stick.

"Don't move when I talk, Draco," Lucius Malfoy stated. "about Harry Potter."

Draco turned towards his father, his eyes narrowed. "What do you want me to do with him, father?"

"Harry Potter is not someone you'd expect. I want you to gain his trust, his friendship, and alliance. Potter is different," Lucius continued. "there is a reason he defeated the Dark Lord, Draco."

"Why?"

"Think like a Slytherin, Draco!" Lucius snapped, his son flinching. "there is a big chance Potter might be a Slytherin! I want you to be his first friend - don't you see, child!? Harry Potter is the next Dark Lord!"

Draco stood, stunned. He wanted to be friends with Potter before this, yes, but for the child to be the next Dark Lord... since he was a child, his only dream was to serve the Dark Lord, but now he gets to be an ally of one - a friend! A smile grew on his lips.

"But what if he's not a Slytherin, father? What if he turns out to be light?"

" _Think_ like a Slytherin. Imagine the glory should we gain the alliance of the Potter family. We can bring him to dark. We will train him. And should the Dark Lord return, we will hand the boy to him."

"That's smart, father!"

A smirk entered Lucius's face. "At school, Draco, I want you to be smarter than I am. I want you to excel at every subject given. Is that clear?"

"Father... the new Cleansweep."

"That will be arranged... once you befriend Potter."

Anything for Quidditch, Draco thought, as he walked from his father's office.


	7. Chapter 6

A hoot could be heard from the train, and Harry looked back, Rolf beside him. "This is it, isn't it?" Rolf asked. "are you nervous? "

"Why should I?"

As students started to come in, Harry turned back to glance at the family who had willingly provided him hospitality, but his eyes were focused on Tina.

To everyone's surprise, including Harry, he walked towards Tina and embraced her, the latter hugging back. He parted, and Tina gave the boy a smile.

"Promise me you'll write," she said.

Nodding, Harry turned back. He stepped forward, but hesitated, and looked back. Tina provided him a warm smile, and the Scamanders flashed him a nod. With a deep sigh, he made his way into the train, Rolf beside him. To their surprise, the train was full, almost. The only empty seat was at the back of the train.

Harry slid open the door and dropped his backpack and bags, before taking a seat, head bowed back. Rolf shuffled a bit, before following Harry's example and sitting.

"Where's Nalgae?" Rolf asked.

"Pocket," Harry said. "asleep."

"How are you not nervous!?" Rolf asked. "my house - where will I be sorted-"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked, flashing Rolf a look. "as far as I know, the houses only shows your personality. Personalities change."

"But houses don't! Our house will be our family for the next seven years!"

Just when Harry was about to yell at Rolf for being annoying, the door slid open, revealing a boy with flaming red hair.

"Rolf!" the boy said, grinning.

"Ron, hello, mate!" Rolf said, standing up. Harry huffed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"Who the bloody hell is that?" Ron asked.

"That's my friend, Harry Potter."

Harry turned his head, his eyes slightly opened, giving the two a look of utter distaste. "Woah, hello! I'm Ron Weasley!"

"Cool," Harry said, turning back to his sleeping.

"Come on Harry," Rolf said, as Ron and he sat on the seat against Harry. "Ron's my cousin. His mother's siblings with my father. Where's Fred and George?"

"Probably out with their devil friends."

Harry opened his eyes, admitting that he wouldn't possibly be able to sleep with these two boys. He squinted his eyes at Ron. "You got dirt on your nose," he said, grimacing.

"Euckk," Ron said, wiping his nose.

"I like having dirt on my body," Rolf said. "it makes me look cool, and adventure-ish."

"So. You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" Ron asked, gazing at Harry's forehead.

"No, I'm his twin," Harry replied. "of course I am - who do you think I am?"

"Well, I've read something about the Killing Curse from one of dad's books - does it hurt? I'm sure it does; do you remember anything about that night?" he asked.

There it was again. The very same statement made memories flash in his mind. He didn't know why this happened, or how. These memories were now different - somehow more painful.

 _His father was at a different place - grasslands, Harry assumed. He was surrounded by two other people - a couple, presumably, one man and one woman._

 _"Potter!" that noise came from him, though Harry never once opened his mouth. "Crucio!"_

A drop of blood trickled down from the pale boy's forehead. "Ron! You don't ask someone that!" Rolf said, ignoring the irony.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't know," Ron replied, looking as if he was about to cry.

Harry's body was sitting still, as frigid as a mannequin. He looked as the equivalent of a corpse, though he strangely smelt of smoke. Again, a dark mist was around him, making him barely visible.

"What do we do, what do we do?" Ron asked. Both were now standing up, forcefully leaned against the glass sliding door.

Slowly, Rolf stepped front. "Harry - Harry, this is Rolf-"

Harry tried to move his hand - to make his body less frigid - to remove the dark smoke - but nothing was working. He was thinking, but he couldn't move his parts.

The train started to shake. A creature the size of a basilisk emerged from the boy's pocket - Nalgae-

The creature hissed. " _Who dare interrupt my sleep?_ "

Rolf forced the door open and pushed Ron away. "Ron! Run!"

Nalgae lunged at Ron, but the boy had scattered. "Nalgae! It's me! Rolf! That's your master!" Rolf yelled.

Nalgae tilted his head at the boy, before shrinking back towards Harry's pocket. Before Rolf could wonder why, an Auror appeared out of nowhere.

"Everything alright, boy?" asked the brown skinned man.

"Yes, sir."

"And, what-" the man pointed a finger at Harry. His heart skipped a beat as he turned. Harry was no longer frigid - he was unconscious on the floor.

"He's sleeping," Rolf said quickly.

"Really? You sure he isn't - dead?"

"He sleeps like that," Rolf lied. "dunno, boy-who-lived stuff. And that noise - that was my cat - he's now, uh, hiding in my suitcase."

The auror raised an eyebrow. "A Scamander?"

"Yes, sir."

The auror left them alone after that. Slamming the door close, Rolf rushed towards Harry, checking his pulse. "Breathing," he said with a sigh. He pulled the unconscious boy up, before shaking his shoulders. "Harry. Wake up, C'mon, it's me, Rolf."

As Harry finally opened his eyes, the door slid open. Growling under her breath, Rolf turned, to face the eleven-year-old version of snow white, except with platinum blonde hair.

"Is that Potter?" the boy asked. "what he did to Weasley was awesome!"

"Can you please go?" Rolf asked. "Harry is - uh-"

"Nonsense! I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. You?"

"Rolf Scamander," Rolf said, rolling his eyes as he diverted his attention back to Harry.

"Scamander, as in Newt Scamander?"

"He's my grandfather."

A smirk grew on Draco's face. He gets the-boy-who-lived and a Scamander all to himself. Oh, what would his father say when he managed to gain the alliance of these two families.

"Can I sit here?" he asked. "everywhere else is full, you see."

The train lurched forward, and the door slid close. "Fine - just, don't disturb him," Rolf pointed at Harry. He had always been told never to judge a book by its cover - Draco seemed like an annoying boy, but people thought _he_ was annoying, too. The boy took a seat beside Harry and Rolf.

Harry was no longer pale or dead-looking, a serene look was etched on his face, and he now looked like he was sleeping. Rolf let him sit beside him, head leaning against his shoulder.

"What house do you think you'll be in?" Draco asked.

"Ravenclaw, I hope."

"Ravenclaw's okay. I just hope I'll get to Slytherin - it's the best house. Just imagine if you were sorted into Hufflepuff - I'll probably leave, won't you? If I were to be in Gryffindor, father would disown me, I expect."

"My grandfather was a Hufflepuff," Rolf threw in.

"Ah... well... some people turn out different," Draco said quickly.

Harry's eyes slowly went open. "Wh - wha-"

"Harry - you're awake!" Rolf exclaimed, looking at his friend.

"Hey, Harry, I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy," Draco leaned in and offered his hand.

The boy shook his head and blinked. "What?"

"He just woke up - come on Harry. We're on the Hogwarts Express," Rolf said. "it's okay. You can sleep again."

"We were just discussing houses," Draco said. "Rolf wants to be in Ravenclaw - and I want to be in Slytherin The greatest house ever."

Harry squinted his eyes. "Give 'em a break; he just woke up," Rolf said.

"You guys play any Quidditch?" Draco asked, ignoring Rolf.

"Chaser," Rolf said, taking some sweets from his pocket, and throwing it at Draco and Harry. "I've been playing with my cousin. He's in Ilvernmory."

Draco snorted. "Well, I'm a seeker. My father's buying me the new Cleansweep Broom, you know? Father's about to send me off to either Ilvernmory or Durmstrang - both are better than this castle of Propaganda, led by Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore is kind," Harry stated, taking a bite of Chocolate Frog.

As Draco scoffed, Rolf added, "he's a friend of my grandfather. What house do you think you'll be in, Harry?"

"The choices?"

"Well, there's Gryffindor, where the lame dunces lives," Draco stated. "then those know-it-all nerds in Ravenclaw, and those weak Hufflepuffs-"

"You know what!?" Rolf exclaimed, standing up. "I can't stand your bias. You can't say that. You can either stop talking bullcrap or just leave."

Draco sent him a glare, and Rolf glared back. Harry watched with an amused look in his eye, though he was surprised when Rolf stood up like that.

"I'd rather stay," Draco said.

"Then behave," Rolf replied, finally sitting down. "So, _Harry_ , we have the Gryffindors, housing brave and the bold. Ravenclaw houses the smart and creative. Hufflepuff houses the kind and loyal, and Slytherin houses the cunning and ambitious."

As Harry started contemplating, Draco had only one thought on his mind: _anything but Gryffindor_.

"Malfoy, Draco."

Harry patted Draco on the back, and the pale boy made his way towards the stool. As the hat touched his head, it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

And Draco made his way towards the table. Harry and Rolf stared at each other. Rolf took a deep breath, and Harry nodded. Harry turned back as the stern-looking professor called another name.

His eyes wandered over to Dumbledore's twinkling one, the old man smiling. "That smile gives me the creeps," Harry muttered.

"What?" the sandy-haired boy next to him asked.

"Nothing," Harry replied quickly. "just talking to myself."

It must've sounded bad, because the boy frowned at him, making him scowl. His eyes scanned the Professors again. "FU - shoot," Harry hissed, as his eyes landed on the Professor with the turban. His scar was opening, and he was sure his forehead wasn't supposed to be bleeding...

"Potter, Harry."

He ruffled his hair up and wiped the blood on his scar, before marching towards the stool. Numerous mutters could be heard around him, but he couldn't care less. The last thing he saw was the Professor's calculating look before his eyes were covered by the tall hat.

"Interesting Boy," the hat muttered. "ah, I see. A very unfortunate case. Very unfortunate."

"Aren't you supposed to be sorting me, instead of making comments?" Harry muttered under her breath.

"What's that sleeping Occamy doing on your pocket, boy?"

"None of your business. Go back to sorting me, you old hat."

"I don't take insults lightly."

After an intense moment of silence, the hat finally continued.

"I think I'd have no problem sorting you, boy - but the house I'm thinking would not benefit you," the hat continued. "yes, I think I've made my decision."

"Then shout it."

"If you insist..."

 ** **What house do you think Harry'll be in? I have a surprise in store. Sorry for the wait.****


	8. Chapter 7

_Dear father,_

 _I believe I have managed to gain friendship with Harry. He is a somewhat kind boy, but he has an aura of Darkness surrounding him. I think you're right, father. You're always right._

 _Harry caused harm on that Weasley boy at the train - I do not know why, but he did - I think he used Dark Magic, which was impressive, because it seemed powerful._

 _The only way I can describe his magic is dark. Dark and powerful._

 _When attacking Weasley, he also had an Occamy with him. I didn't inquire much about it, but it was very obvious that it was Harry's._

 _I also saw a sleeping Snake on his pocket, but didn't comment. I don't know how he managed to sneak the animal in under Dumbledore's nose, but he did it alright. I do think he's very eligible to be a Dark Lord._

 _Also, Potter was with this other boy. He's a Scamander. A bit noisy, and I think he sides with the light side. But he would be a great ally, wouldn't he, father?_

 _Newt Scamander is his grandfather, and he's a pureblood._

 _In the boats, we also met this other boy, Nico Flamel. I felt a powerful aura of magic around him, too. The Flamels are in the Sacred Twenty-Eight Purebloods, aren't they? We've talked to him for awhile, too, and I've learnt about his great grandfather, Nicolas Flamel._

 _He did sound familiar. I think I've read about him somewhere on the library at home. Flamel was immortal, now six hundred years old. Nico Flamel was sorted into Slytherin._

 _And do not worry, father, I was also sorted into Slytherin, with Theo, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaize, and our new friend, Nico._

 _But Potter's house - it really surprised me and the others._

 _Potter was sorted into Hufflepuff._

Draco finished scribbling his letter, folding the paper. His eyes scanned the room as he stood up. Crabbe and Goyle were dancing like gorillas, imitating elephant noises. Poor Theo was covering his ears with his two blankets, his face red, looking like he had just swallowed a whole potato. Blaize was laughing at Theo, and Nico... he was reading, ignoring his surroundings.

Reluctantly, Draco pushed the letter to his pocket and walked over to Nico. "Hey. What are you reading?"

The blonde haired boy lifted his glasses and looked at him. His mere look made Draco shiver. There was something about this boy. "A book about Alchemy," Nico said. "the secret to immortality."

From the thickness of the book, Draco thought that the book must have at least eight hundred pages. What was a child doing reading something like this? A book about immortality no less.

When Nico turned back towards reading, he gave one glance towards Crabbe and Goyle, and ran off towards the door.

"Morning, Potter."

Harry looked up to see his fellow Hufflepuff greet him on his bed. Justin, he thought his name was. The curly blonde haired boy tidily sported his uniform. "Morning - what time-"

"It's only six. Don't worry. I just like getting prepared every morning," Justin said, before giving Harry a smile and walking back to his bed.

Harry sat up, groaning. The only ones awake were him and Justin; the others were still snoring to their blanket.

After stretching, Harry took his toiletries and made his way towards the bathroom. He glanced at his pale face. Something was on his eye - while it was not that visible - he felt something lurking in there. Something dark.

Shivering, Harry took off his black pajamas and got one look on his scrawny body - and swiftly made his way into the showers, grimacing. He was all bones, no fat. He wasn't sure that was healthy.

He swiftly made his way towards the shower and started cleaning himself. Memories of the sorting replayed through his head. He was quite shocked when he was sorted into Hufflepuff. They say Hufflepuff is the house of the kind. Then there's Harry, a guy who almost killed Olliviander and the Weasley boy.

Dumbledore had raised an eyebrow at Harry's sorting - it was quite visible to Harry. His fellow Hufflepuff was saying that everyone, including Dumbledore, expected him to be sorted into Gryffindor.

A third year, Cedric Diggory, said that this is one of the best things Hufflepuff had experienced, after the House Cup they won seventeen years ago.

That was the most depressing thing Harry has heard in his life.

Still, Harry intends to change that. He had enterred a house that people consider "weak", and Harry doesn't like being called weak.

He just hoped that Wizards have a much better personality than Muggles, because the people he meets on a daily basis made him want to watch the whole world burn.

Ron Weasley. The name rang in Harry's mind at the potions class he shared with the Slytherins. Justin was next to him, though his seat was scooted away.

The fearful and curious glances aimed at him.

Well, at least he thought it was Ron's fault. He had had a quick chat with Rolf, who had told him Ron had spread rumors about him being a dark lord, and how he had almost killed him.

Apparently McGonagall took ten points from Gryffindor for slander.

But still, people believed the boy. The only thing he could do was scowl at the glances sent his way. That was before Professor Snape entered the room.

With greasy jet black hair, a hooked nose, and dark blue cloak, Harry could only describe him as a bat. An old, greasy bat.

The professor started the class with a roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he stopped.

"Yes, Harry Potter - our new celebrity," Snape said, glaring at Harry. Harry glared back. "tell me, Potter. What would I get if I added a powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He had finished reading the potions book, yes, as given his current condition, that was the best way to kill time. But after skimming through, he was sure the Infusion of Wormwood wasn't anywhere in the books.

"I don't know, sir."

"Perhaps it would be smart to read before attending school, Potter," Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "fame clearly isn't everything."

"I've read the books, professor. I haven't-"

"Five points from Hufflepuff for lying, Potter. Now, if you'll-"

"That's not fair!" Harry snapped. "aren't you supposed to remove points fairly?"

After a moment of silence, and Justin tugging at his robes, Snape spoke up again. "Well then, if you want to show off your _intelligence_ \- where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

He tried to remember. Yes, he had definitely read about this. Something about a stomach of a... was it a cow? No, that can't be. A goat. Yes, the stomach of a goat.

"The stomach of a goat, professor?"

"Five points from Hufflepuff for cheating," Snape snapped, before opening his mouth to throw in another question.

"But that's not fair!" exclaimed Sally-Anne Perks, a spectacled fellow Hufflepuff. "how is she cheating?"

"Another five points from Hufflepuff."

The Slytherins sniggered, and Harry stood up. The professor ignored him, and chose to write on the board.

"What, Potter?" the professor said after turning back. "want to show off your fame?"

"She didn't do anything wrong," Harry said coolly.

"Did she? Just like your father, you are, Potter. He too was incredibly delusional and arrogant-"

All his anger for Snape - for the rumors going on - had somehow exploded. It was like some part of his mind - it had enraged him further. A part of his soul seemed to hate Snape.

Though he was far away, Harry lifted his hand up, and Snape found himself levitated up by his neck, slammed against the wall.

"If you say one word - one word against my father," Harry said calmly. "you don't know how they died. I know people like you. Bullies."

Snape waved his wand, but the dark mist held his hand back. His fellow Hufflepuffs rushed back, slammed against each other, while the Slytherins watched, their mouths agape. Only Draco was grinning.

"I've heard about you, Professor. People who didn't reach their dreams to be a Potions Master just like you," Harry continued. "I've heard all about you in my short time here. I don't care if I get expelled.

"The only reason why you're still here is because people are scared of you," Harry looked back towards his fellow students. "isn't that right?"

Snape tried to say something, his hands and legs moving frantically. None of the Slytherins of Hufflepuffs said something, giving him a fearful look - all except Draco.

"No one brave enough to stand up to a bully then?" Harry asked, flicking his hand. Snape fell towards the wooden floor. "You wizards are a bunch of kitty-cats."

"Potter - _Stupefy_!" even while sitting, Snape managed to fire a perfect spell.

Harry needn't deflect it. It barely touched Harry, before the spell exploded. A feeling of dread entered his stomach, before one quick second of Nausea, and Harry blacked out once again.

 ** **I need to stop making Harry black out - but it's not because he's shocked or something - it's because of the Obscurial.****

 ** **Don't think I'm one of those cliche writers who make their characters after a "I'm breaking up with you" line.****

 ** **Sorry for the very long wait!****

 ** **I was writing another story - a story unpublished which I have been working on since about a year ago. That book compared to this is honestly like comparing Rowling's works to a Kindergarten boy's writing.****

 ** **Honestly.****

 ** **I didn't really plan out too much for this book. All I did was outline the whole story. That's it. I didn't map out the character development, the character's plans - which is horrible. It makes me clueless while writing.****

 ** **But I'm going to continue writing this. After it's finished, I will then start to edit it, which will probably take much longer than it does to write it.****

 ** **And also, thanks for the nice comments! I'm a young author who doesn't even speak English daily (it is not my first language), so it's always making me smile when people comment nice things.****

 ** **Thank you for everything.****

 ** **Let's hope I can get the next chapter out tomorrow.****

 ** **Edit: Holy hell, the Author's Note is longer than the story!****


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